Under The Influence
by CoryphaeusRex
Summary: Well, you know what you get if you give a slashcrazy fangirl a drugged up hero and a totally uberawesome villain? This. Oh yeah, Eragon's out of his head and he's saying some things he shouldn't. Rated for sexual situations, as usual. Oh, and it's slash.


**Author's Notes & Disclaimer:** Well, you can hardly expect me to watch a new movie and not slash **anybody** from it. Particularly the totally **sexy** villain and our whiter-than-white **hero**. Having said that, this is based more on the book than on the film- there's a **lot** more time to carry out my **evil** plots. And I haven't written a really **delicious** PWP in ages. Durza and Eragon (who has been given a **hell** of a lot more drugs for this fic than he **actually** gets in the book) are **not** mine, unfortunately for me. Nor is the city of Gil'ead, so I really don't own **anything** featured in this fic. This thing carries a number of health warnings. Don't read if you believe **firmly** in Eragon/Arya, or Eragon/Nasuada. Or basically **het**, romance or good, clean fun. This fic contains **scenes of a sexual nature**, that may or may not be considered **non-con**, depending on whether you view drug consumption as consent. **Enjoy**.

There was humming coming from the cell. One of the guards twitched in irritation- it was just slightly out of tune, and would trail off, only to resume seconds later with a completely different melody. It was unmistakeably the sound of one who had been drugged, but unfortunately not drugged enough to be unconscious. After about thirty minutes of the noise, he reflexively tapped on the door with his spear. The humming stopped with a little sigh.

"I was just beginning to enjoy that." A silky voice interrupted the newly-initiated silence. The guard straightened with a wince, aware that he was in some sort of trouble. More accurately, some sort of big trouble. Durza stepped out from the shadows, the torchlight glinting off his long red hair.

"Sorry, m'lord," the brute mumbled, bowing meekly. His fellow guard grinned- the Shade's punishments were usually very inventive- and very messy, catering to the bloodlust of the guards' race without meaning to.

Today, though, Durza seemed somewhat distracted. With a contemptuous flick of his hand, he moved the guard aside. The other was wise enough to step out of the way of the cell door, even going so far as to open it to allow the Shade passage. Silently, he stepped through, and the massive door swung shut behind him.

The prisoner was sitting on the bed, cross-legged, holding his ankles and swaying slightly. The humming started up again as his blue eyes watched Durza serenely. It was an old tune, older than he should have known, but as Durza drew closer, the boy seemed to reach the end of the line that he knew, and trailed off, only to begin a different tune, a bright, happy melody that Durza didn't recognise.

He almost laughed. So this was the great Dragon Rider, first in a new generation that the king feared would wipe him and his regime out. What was there to fear? The boy had been captured almost without effort, and so far he had been completely docile in the cell, submitting to the drugs easily. It would have been considered too easy, if Durza had not been able to sense the boy's complete lack of anything resembling thought. As he watched, Eragon tilted his tousled blond head to one side, and smiled vapidly.

"Do you know who I am, boy?" Durza asked, his voice cutting the air like a sword through silk. Eragon's head tipped further to the side, and he almost lost his balance as he frowned in concentration.

"I don't think so. You look strange." The battle with gravity finally found a victor, and Eragon slipped sideways onto the narrow bed, his eyes still watching Durza with something that would have been interest, had it not been so languid. "I mean, I think you look nice, though. Strange-nice. Is that a word?"

"It could be," the Shade barely stopped the laugh entering his voice. This was going to be _far_ too easy. It was almost an insult that the boy had not put up enough of a fight. "But why do you say it?"

"Because I think you look nice. Pretty. But not normal-pretty. Not pretty like Murtagh. Different," Eragon sighed, rolling over until he was lying on his stomach. He rested his head on his folded arms, still watching Durza. He didn't notice the Shade's maroon eyes widening briefly, glittering in the dim light.

"You think your companion is… pretty?" the Shade struggled on the word, as though it were a difficult morsel to fit in his mouth. Beyond that, though, his mind was racing. Surely the elves and the Varden would not want a champion that was possessed of such a mind. Surely if he had been defiled in such unnatural ways, they would not accept him. Even if he did manage to escape Gil'ead, he would be cast out, and then there would only be one way left for him to run- right back into Galbatorix's ranks. It was not a bad idea.

And the youth was hardly unattractive, after all.

"Yes. I mean, wouldn't you?" Eragon asked with a giggle in his voice, stretching slightly. A slight ripple ran down his body, as his muscles flexed beneath his shirt. "I like him."

The Shade made a small vague noise in the back of his throat, listening intently but trying not to. He was still concentrating on the possibilities offered by the boy's strange and unnatural state of mind as he padded across the room and sat down on the bed next to Eragon, his body curving in graceful lines to lower himself down gently enough so as not to disturb the boy's already delicate system of balance.

"I like you as well" Eragon mumbled, twisting his head around to stare innocently at Durza. Once again, he was not getting along well with gravity, as with a resigned little laugh, he tipped over onto his back, an arm flung across his brow. The Shade studied him.

"How much?" he eventually asked, his voice a silken murmur in the darkness. Eragon frowned, as though he should be remembering something. The Shade froze- he had considered the possibility that the boy could push aside the drugs with the powerful mental faculties he was supposed to have, but since he had upped the dosage, Eragon seemed to be reacting in the normal way: a sort of drowsy honesty, with the ability to remember all but the most important of details. After a brief mental struggle, Eragon looked up at Durza again, and the confusion seemed to pass, with what remained of his conscious mind triumphant over the more intelligent and wary subconscious.

"A whole lot," he slurred enthusiastically, a dopey grin on his face. The Shade raised an eyebrow, and Eragon began to giggle again. A small, fleeting smile crossed Durza's face- he remained unaffected by Eragon's mirth, but it was hard to remain straight-faced at the ease with which this was all coming together. Besides, it seemed to put the boy at ease, as Eragon sat up, supporting his weight with his arms, slouching between his shoulders, still laughing gently.

Durza was not the most unobservant of people, even when viewing things that most people would shy away from, and this skill of vision did not fail him even in the darkness of the cell. Yet, even as he took in all the small details, the boy's open shirt, tousled hair, and hesitant look that nonetheless burned with desire; he also saw, beneath this, the way the sight would look to a practically blind mortal. The play of the light across Eragon's skin gave an interesting cast to the scene- an effect which was not lost on Durza. Nor, it seemed, did Eragon fail to notice Durza's maroon eyes inspecting him with ill-concealed approval.

"You're looking at me," he noted, shifting around to sit on his heels. Durza mentally noted fidgeting as one of the drug's more annoying side-effects, and resolved to improve upon it.

"Yes I am," he agreed, softly. Eragon wobbled- the drug disrupting what was once his balance, knocking his centre of gravity right out of his body. He almost fell against Durza, and would have done, had the Shade not reached out with unnaturally fast reflexes, and caught his arm before he toppled. Eragon made as though to look at the hand that had saved him from another fall, but then changed his mind, his hazy eyes still fixed on Durza's face.

"Why are you looking at me?" he asked, innocently. The Shade opened his mouth to reply, then paused at the look in Eragon's azure gaze. The drug he had been given suppressed only emotions that could prove a threat- it ignored the baser side of human nature. Love and desire could not break bars, and so they were left to roam free. And roam free they did, behind the boy's half-lidded eyes, shining through as he watched Durza. Adoration and desire and uncertainty and doubt chased each other in convoluted curls that would make any mortal onlooker dizzy. Luckily, though, Shades were made of stronger stuff.

"Because I want to," Durza murmured. Eragon's eyes closed once, in a placid sort of joy. As they opened again, still fixed on the Shade's face, the boy bit his lip nervously, despite the shy smile that seemed a permanent feature on his youthful face. It didn't take long for him to reach a decision.

His lips felt warm against Durza's oddly cold skin.

Unfortunately for Eragon, he was not allowed to pull away and sit alone in the dark and muse upon his mistake as the drug wore off. The hand that had been around Eragon's arm slid around to the small of the boy's back, pulling him closer. Eragon giggled again, but the sound was cut off as the Shade chose to return his kiss, intensifying it tenfold. The boy was losing his balance again, slowly but surely, and it was only Durza's arm around his back that kept him from falling off the bed completely. Eragon's arms slid around the Shade's neck, and this was the only factor that kept him from lolling backwards once the kiss was broken. He began to laugh, delightedly, and the sound irritated Durza.

Laughter turned to gasps as the Shade started to nip at the soft flesh of Eragon's exposed neck. The boy's fingers wound into Durza's blood-red hair, pulling every so often as the wandering mouth found a particularly sensitive spot to bite. Durza eventually found his way back to Eragon's expectant mouth, but this time the boy was prepared.

It was almost like an attack. Fiercely, wildly, Eragon gave back as good as the almost-violence he was receiving from the Shade. Once again, and for the last time, his balance failed him. He fell backwards, and would have landed upon the flat pallet, had Durza's unnaturally strong arms not stopped him, catching him close against the Shade's body.

Far too close for any sort of comfort other than the kind that leaves dark blemishes upon the skin, as Eragon desperately fought for air. Beyond kisses, he had no idea what he was doing, and the Shade was showing him in rather too-vivid imagery just what these dangerous attractions he had been pursuing involved. Durza appeared to tire of the breathless closeness, and in one fluid movement, carelessly threw Eragon down to the very place he had just stopped him from reaching. What would have been an opportunity to catch his breath was suddenly turned into yet another chance to lose it as the Shade sinuously moved atop him, strong hands pinning his wrists down to the dingy sheets.

Eragon let out a noise that was halfway between a drugged sigh and a tortured whine- this was all moving too fast, as was his heart at that point in time. Durza smiled appreciatively- Eragon could feel the Shade's lips curving into a burning grin against his neck, even as he squirmed beneath that unnaturally strong grip. Then he felt a quite different sensation- his shirt being unlaced as Durza tugged on the cords with his teeth. The shirt had been loose to begin with, but now it literally fell away from Eragon's body, as if by some sort of magic.

_But there's no such thing as magic. That would be silly,_ thought the tiny part of Eragon's mind that was only affected by the drugs, and hadn't yet been swept under the influence of Durza and the blazing lust for the Shade's body that currently rushed through every fibre of the boy's being. He felt his hands being released as Durza sat back on his heels and began to remove the rest of Eragon's clothes. The boy began to tremble, and, unbidden, he sat up, wrapping his arms about the Shade's neck. In response, Durza nuzzled gently at Eragon's throat as he completed his given task and laid the boy back down again. With a flick of one wrist, he cast his cloak away from his body. It flared out, and then settled about both of their bodies.

Eragon gasped as he felt bare flesh against his own. Durza wore nothing underneath his cloak, and the boy couldn't understand why he hadn't noticed it before. Then, understanding went right out of the window as the Shade ran a slender hand down his leg, whilst at the same time deeply kissing him. Eragon's arms slid from around Durza's neck until he was fully flat on his back. It was then that the Shade chose to make his penultimate move towards completely defiling the boy and making sure he would not be chosen as champion for the Varden or any rebel groups.

Durza was almost amazed that he was still thinking clearly as Eragon's shrill yell split the air. There was a sound of movement outside, and between kisses, the Shade flung out a hand, making it impossible for anything to pass through the door, including sound, until he said so. Eragon nipped at his lip, his breath coming harshly with the pain and exhilaration, both threatening to drive him beyond the borders of sanity, and both only prevented from doing so only by the soft cushion of drugs that his mind rested upon.

"Oh gods," he murmured breathlessly against Durza's mouth. The Shade laughed quietly, even as the boy's fists clenched on his lean back, fingernails leaving deep little half-moons incised into the skin. He could feel the blood that had been drawn beginning to trickle over his shoulder blades. His chest rubbed against Eragon's, slick with sweat, as he kissed the boy again and again, making sure that there could be no doubt about what had occurred to anyone who found him in that state, including himself. Eragon was now trembling violently, and Durza could feel it making a quick counterpoint to the regular rhythm they had mutually settled into. The Shade bit down on Eragon's collarbone, feeling the skin give and bruise beneath his mouth.

Half-formed whispers fell from the boy's lips, mere inches from Durza's ear. Whispers of thanks, pleas to carry on or make it stop- the purpose changed every few seconds or so. The Shade smiled- it was working. Soon, the boy would be unsuitable for anything to the Varden, other than the purpose he was currently being used for. Such a shame. Maybe he would find solace with the companion that he thought attractive. Or better, maybe he would just return to Galbatorix, and this occurrence would happen a lot more frequently.

Because Durza would never admit it, but he was indeed enjoying himself. Not quite at the level Eragon found this experience pleasurable (for which the Shade considered him slightly mad. What kind of insane person would submit to such torture willingly, and actually _like_ it?), but it had its charms. If only seeing the ecstatic look on the boy's face as he watched Durza through hazy, pain-crazed eyes, waiting for that next kiss that would distract him and confirm the bond he thought was forming. Due to his smudged mental picture, he couldn't sense Durza's detached air, but in a few moments that would not matter, because as the union got faster and more violent, the Shade's ice-cold mindset was unravelling fast.

He never completely lost himself within Eragon, but he became quickly light-headed, and he very nearly faltered as Eragon arched his back, pressing their bodies closer. Time decelerated to a near-standstill, and Durza saw very clearly the boy's face contorting ever so slightly, then relaxing back to that happy, drugged disinterest within the space of a few moments that felt like minutes. The Shade's maroon eyes blinked in surprise, and time stepped back up to its normal pace once more, as he returned to his senses. Eragon relaxed as Durza withdrew, and went right back to where he had been before the entire thing had happened- sitting nonchalantly on the edge of the bed, swathed in his dark cloak.

"That was… good," Eragon murmured, and the Shade could sense the exhaustion bleeding through in his voice. As the boy rolled over onto his side, wrapping himself up in his thin blankets, he looked up at Durza with half-lidded eyes, and eventually continued, "I think I like you better than Murtagh."

Durza was not impressed. But before he could say anything, Eragon let out a little sigh, and the Shade felt his mind drift into unconsciousness. He stood up with catlike grace, and straightened his cloak out, before releasing his hold on the door. The guard opened it obediently at his sharp tap, and stared at Durza in barely-concealed curiosity.

"Are you all right, m'lord? We heard… things."

"Do I have to explain myself to you?" the Shade asked acidly. The guard stood to attention, and scraped the gormless look from his face to mumble a quick apology, lest he risk a fate worse than death. Durza looked at the recently-closed door for a long time, before a barely-perceptible change came over his face. Before, he had looked downright harsh. Now, there was a smirk playing about the corners of his mouth.

"Double his dose," he ordered briskly, then swept away into the darkness.


End file.
